


From Sandwich to Celebration: The Romance of a Nameless Guard

by AnonymousXIV



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Male Protagonist, Non-Canon Relationship, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 16:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20450042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousXIV/pseuds/AnonymousXIV
Summary: A young Elven man who'd joined the Crystarium Guard was on the verge of quitting, when the hero of his dreams turned his life around with a sandwich and kind words. His story should've ended there, but then his life grew in a direction he never thought possible when he met the Warrior of Darkness (and Light) a second time.





	From Sandwich to Celebration: The Romance of a Nameless Guard

The Warrior of Light is many things to many people. A hero, a savior, a friend, a rival, a sworn enemy, an unlikely ally or unfortunate foe. In reality, the Warrior of Light is all of those things and so much more.

Out of reality, the Warrior of Light is many people as well. Each has their own face. Their own name. Their own life beyond what destiny has allotted for this wondrous champion. Many would deny even being the Warrior of Light, preferring to carve out their own histories with each other. Though each one shares the same space, in a manner of speaking no two are quite the same. Well, aside from the many Warriors of Light trying to trade ill-gotten gil to others beyond the veil, but the less said about them the better.

On this day, in this time, there was a Viera. She was a full six fulms from head to toe, with long white hair often seen in a ponytail. Her eyes were a piercing, icy blue, and her skin was tan with a subtle redness to it. To any observer beyond the veil she would be just another adventurer, one whose decades of walking the realm had given her plenty of experience across dozens of subjects. But presently, under your eyes and mine, she is the Warrior of Light.

On her many adventures, there came a time where she'd been pulled through the manifold depths of time and space, arriving on a reflection of Hydaelyn known as "The First". There she'd been tasked with bringing darkness to the land of Norvrandt, ending the threat of Apocalyptic Light and forestalling a calamity of unfathomable destruction. In the end she succeeded and now lived out her days in relative peace, championed as the Warrior of Darkness.

One day, she'd come across a drill instructor in the Crystarium Guard. He'd given her a sandwich, and asked that she deliver it to a novice guard along with a few words of encouragement. As was often the case, she did exactly as she was told, brightening the lad's life and giving him the courage to face the very future that had so daunted him that day. And that is where this story begins...

~~~

The Elven guardsman truly could not believe his good fortune. This morning he'd been ready to throw in the towel. Despite his initial enthusiasm, he struggled with the training regiment all who served in defense of the Crystarium had to endure. Though he was not fool enough to bemoan surviving the attack on Holminster Switch, nor would he ever begrudge the noble heroine who led her party of five into the fray that day, he was certain he'd made a mistake in trying to follow her example.

All that changed when the selfsame heroine showed up that morning to his usual spot under a tree in the Sweetsieve, dressed in the armor of the Crystarium Guard. A gift from Captain Lyna, or so he'd heard. She spoke no words, but gave him a sandwich and a kind smile. To his shame, he could not help but wallow in self-pity in response, but she disarmed him of such notions with a single sentence.

"Nonsense. You've been working hard."

Her response struck him hard. How did she know? The answer was obvious in hindsight, but in that moment he felt she had some greater understanding into his struggles than he'd ever imagined. That moment had chilled his self-doubt, and he resolved to return to his training and face his weakness head on.

It worked. Though he still had some difficulty, his composure did not waver like it normally did. His spear seemed altogether lighter in his hands, like some unseen hand was helping him carry it, guiding his blows. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that the hand belonged to her...

But that would make him a bigger fool than the man he'd been this morning, wouldn't it? Sure, she was kind enough to offer him words of encouragement and something to eat, but never in his wildest dreams could he see himself fighting alongside her.

With night fast approaching and his duty complete for the day, he took a hot bath to ease the tension in his muscles, then rolled into his bed and fell fast asleep. He had a new outlook on life, and that was enough for him.

~~~

The morning after was altogether uneventful, and once more he took to his duty full of confidence. A full night's rest was enough to quiet what remained of his self-doubt, and for the first time he felt he'd excelled on patrol. And while his shoulder ached more than usual, he dismissed that as the usual stress from a hard day's work. More than anything else he was satisfied that he'd turned his life around, and it was all thanks to his hero, the Warrior of Darkness. If he ever again met her again, he'd have to do something special for her.

So he truly could not believe his good fortune when, upon returning to his usual spot, he found one of the Viis sitting underneath the tree, staring off into the sky. Clad in an autumnal gown dyed brilliant red and a pair of vibrant lilies in her hair, he could've easily mistaken her for one of the farmers working in the Sweetsieve. Yet her face was unmistakable to him.

"G-good afternoon." The Warrior of Darkness turned to look at him, and smiled. She patted the ground next to her, and without giving it a second thought he sat down beside her. "Thank you," he said, looking into those beautiful blue eyes.

"How have you been today?"

The question caught him off guard. She couldn't have been waiting here for him, could she? But he was quite proud of today, so he brushed the thought off for now and instead regaled her with his tale...

"... and it struck me hard in the shoulder, sending me tumbling on my back, but I rose up and as it tried to bear down on me, I struck the killing blow! Er, perhaps not the finest work in hindsight, and it was a team effort of course, but putting down that smilodon before it could hurt those travelers felt good." He looked to her, hoping for her approval. What he found instead was, perhaps, a little more satisfying: A pasty in her hands, presented for him.

"Ah, is that for me?" She nodded. "Th-thank you, sincerely." Gingerly he took the pastry from her and, upon taking his first bite, found it to have apple filling. He was no stranger to apple pies, having eaten many in the time he'd lived under his mother's roof, the dark bless her soul, but this one in particular was exceptionally delicious.

"Full glad am I to hear of your valor, friend. But if you don't mind, I would like to look at your shoulder before you go."

He nearly choked on his last apple pie. Did she really just request to see his shoulder? He'd have to take his armor off for her, the Warrior of Darkness and his very own hero to boot, and... well, something about that seemed almost sacrilegious. But despite his misgivings, the thought of denying her aid as he'd tried to do the day before felt much worse.

"We-well, I was told to, to visit the chirurgeon after my duty was over, so... but, if-if it pleases you, you may look at it, yes. But, um, not here..."

She smiled, wiping the crumbs from his lips with a handkerchief. Then she stood up and offered her hand.

"We'd best get going, then."

His heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. He wasn't walking hand in hand with the Warrior of Darkness, off to Spaygrics that she might soothe his bare shoulder. Far more likely was it that the blow had knocked him on his head and he'd died out there in Lakeland, and this was merely a fever dream in his final moments.

But if it was a fever dream, he thought, he didn't want to wake up. And so he took her hand and, blushing, walked with her all the way to Spaygrics.

To his dismay, but mostly relief, Chessamile insisted on treating him herself, leaving the Warrior of Darkness to watch in silence with that reassuring smile of hers. It was for the best, really, that he not make an even bigger fool of himself in front of his hero than he probably already had. Sure enough, the source of his shoulder ache was what she called a "hairline fracture". Left alone, it would almost certainly lead to a decline in his health.

Yet it was a simple matter to mend it, thanks to the power of conjury and alchemy combined. With an admission of clean health, he donned his armor once again and set out to the entrance.

"That's a relief," the Warrior of Darkness said. "Your courage is impressive, but injuries like that should always be treated, lest they grow into something worse."

He nodded sagely. She'd seen through his pain when he himself underestimated it, and saw fit to treat him. It seemed as if every moment with her only raised her higher in his esteem. On this line of thought, a question began to form in his mind.

"Thank you for taking the time to care for me. I feel like those words might be losing their meaning a bit, but I do mean them. Thank you."

She nodded and turned away, only to stop and look back over her shoulder at him.

"I have business in the evening and will retire to my room 'til then to rest. Will you escort me there?"

He took a deep breath. He had to, or he might very well pass out. She was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? She had to be, to keep looking for excuses to spend time with him of all people. Once more, he had to doubt reality. And once more, he soldiered on ahead regardless.

"Of course, but... um... did you make that apple pie for me?"

The question slipped out on its own, and once out there was no way to take it back. The Warrior of Darkness smiled and shut her eyes.

"Though less convenient, I prefer to gather the ingredients and prepare the food myself. I thought you would like it."

That was it, then. There was no more denying it. The Warrior of Darkness, savior of Norvrandt, savior of his own life twice over, had baked him a pie. Words could easily express what he was feeling right now, but like a fool without a map he couldn't find a single one. Instead he took her hand and, blushing deeper than before, walked her to her room in the Pendants.

~~~

Each day was the same as the last. He'd go off on patrol, giving his all alongside his fellow guardsmen. He'd return in the afternoon and find the Warrior of Darkness sitting under their tree, dressed in the same lovely red gown. He'd regale her with the tale of his daily exploits, no matter how exciting or dull they were. She gave him some new dish she cooked up just for him. And then he escorted her to her room, bidding her goodnight.

On this day, the eighth day since she saved him, things were uncomfortably different. Specifically, she was not there. No doubt she had some pressing matter to attend to and would be along shortly. But the minutes turned to hours. Soon the sun had set and the sky had turned that wonderful shade of bluish black called "night".

He couldn't begrudge her for it, not at all, and in all likelihood there was nothing to her absence today. But he couldn't help but feel dismayed that she hadn't shown up and couldn't rightly explain why. So instead he stood up and, gathered his helmet, and set off to get something to eat before heading back to his room. But as he reached the aetheryte plaza at the center of the Rotunda, what he was made his blood run cold.

Lying there, dressed in an armored long coat of blackest night alongside a massive greatsword, both drenched in blood, was the Warrior of Darkness. If she was even alive, she made no effort to show it.

Without thinking, he ran to her aid, shaking her furiously. Her eyes fluttered open and, with a loud yawn, she rolled into a sitting position. "Is that you, friend?"

He nodded, relief cascading over him. Even so, he needed to find out just what had happened to make her arrive in such a state. "I thought you were dead! You're not hurt, are you?"

The Warrior of Darkness nodded, smiling grimly. "'Tis not my own blood, but that of a beast known as Archaeotania. With the help of an Ondo called Teushs Ooan, I tracked it to the depths of the Tempest. A number of adventurers aided me in slaying it." Her smile faded as she continued, "... though many of them died during and after the battle."

A journey to the very bottom of the ocean, to do battle with an ancient beast of mythic proportion? It was an impossible tale, yet coming from the lips of the Warrior of Darkness, he believed every word of it. For wasn't that what she'd done for Norvrandt? Taking on the very light that threatened to engulf the world and banishing it? Had she not done the very same for him, that fateful day?

She tried to stand up, but slipped. Without thinking, he reached out and caught her, helping her to her feet. It was clear as the cloudless night above that she was exhausted beyond reason.

"Let me help you to your room. It's the least I could do after all you've done for me."

The Warrior of Darkness shook her head "I need a bath first, really, but my suite isn't fitted for that. Do you know where I can find one?"

~~~

The Warrior of Darkness was in his private room, standing over his freshly drawn hot bath. She was gracefully stripping off her armor, letting it settle in a pile at her feet. And then she climbed into his bath, sliding in with the selfsame grace. She soaked there for what felt like ages, the look of bliss on her face priceless.

It was out of the question that this turn of events could ever come to be, and he was a fool to believe his own eyes and ears. He didn't care. In fact, with cloth and soap in hand he was just about to start cleaning her himself when she shot him a stern look.

"I'm not so helpless as to need that sort of babying," she said, letting the words linger before softening her expression, "but if it pleases you, you may wash my back."

And so he did. With cloth in hand, he dutifully scrubbed the back of his hero, the Warrior of Darkness, until not a mote of dirt remained. Then he handed her the cloth and, finally thought of himself. He was in dire need of a bath, too, having worked quite hard on patrol that day. And there was certainly room in that bath for two people...

"I'll wash your back too, if you'd like."

With that invitation, every last vestige of skepticism and restraint shut down in his mind. Without hesitation he stripped off his armor and underclothes, then slipped right into the tub, offering his back for her. Her ministrations, gentle as they were, filled him with happiness. Before long, she'd begun scrubbing his arms, too. The act brought him down to earth just enough to protest.

"Er, I-I can... bathe myself too..."

She silenced him with a single finger to his lips. "I know, but let me have this, please."

And that was that, he thought. The Warrior of Darkness was giving him a bath in the privacy of his own room. Of course it was real, that's what the Warrior of Darkness does. He was quite happy to accept this now, and wouldn't mind if she went on to tuck him into bed while she was at it. All he could do anymore was give his thanks.

"Thank you, my friend."

No, he realized a moment too late, he hadn't actually said that. What he really said came from deep in his heart, as if it had seized this moment itself. An uncomfortable silence followed as he turned to face her. She was looking into the tub, and seemed altogether too crestfallen for her next choice of words.

"I know. I think I feel the same way."

He stood up, climbing out of the bath.

"Wait, please-"

He turned and, seeing her reach out to him, grabbed her hand. She came out just as easily as he had, right into his waiting arms. He tilted her head up and, lifting her onto the tips of her feet, he kissed her.

Her arms were around his waist, and his around her shoulders. For that wonderful moment, they were inseparable. And even when they broke off, he couldn't help but gaze longingly into her eyes. It seemed only natural where this would lead, but he wondered if he might be pushing his luck if he tried to go for it. No, it was probably for the best if he guided her back to her suite and left it at that.

But the Warrior of Darkness would have none of that, it seemed. "May I stay in your bed for the night?"

He said nothing, but took her by the hand and guided her down onto his bed. With a finger she beckoned him to join her and, as he embraced her then and there, everything became a passion-filled blur in his mind. He chose not to linger overlong on what he'd done to satisfy her for a few reasons, not the least of which was that he was really quite callow in this regard and would be embarrassed to recount it even in his own mind. But he did recall getting a warm kiss for his efforts, and feeling her cuddle up beside him and fall asleep.

It occurred to him now that, until this night, he had not really seen the Warrior of Darkness as a woman. Of course it was obvious that she was, but he'd always imagined her as some dauntless goddess who'd come down from the night sky to right all that was wrong in the world. It made sense to sing her praises, for would they even be alive if not for her?

But now, lying next to her as she slumbered in his bed, he couldn't help but think of her like this. Right now she was not some living legend straight out of song and story. She was alive, and not just alive but human, and not just human but a woman. And not just any woman, but the only woman in the whole world for him.

"Wicked white," he whispered as he closed his eyes. "Can I really go through with this?"

~~~

The days rolled on into weeks, and his routine continued unabated. He'd go out on patrol, more confident and capable than ever before. He'd come back in the afternoon and have lunch with the Warrior of Darkness under the tree in the Sweetsieve. Then he'd walk her back to her suite in the Pendants.

And though not as regular, on several nights he would hear the soft click of his door in motion. Sometimes they would share a bath, or merely a kiss. Other times, they would do so much more.

With his remaining free time in the afternoon he found himself a second job at the Crystalline Mean. Between that and his guard duty, he'd been saving up quite a bit of money. A full month after the day she'd saved him from self-doubt, he had enough for the very thing he was looking for. Now all he needed was the right moment to present it to her.

That night was not so different from the rest. He'd returned to his room, the gift tucked safely away in his pocket. He's stripped off his armor and and underclothes, carefully folding them on the counter next to his bed. Then he drew a bath, waiting for the telltale click of his paramour's return. He'd asked her to come see him earlier that day, and was counting on her to show.

As he was beginning to lose hope, there came the very click he'd been waiting for. She'd always come just when he needed her most, hadn't she? That was just how the Warrior of Darkness did things, of course. She looked upon the bath and smiled. Without a word, she stripped her own gown off and climbed in without hesitation.

He did not. Instead he'd discreetly slipped the gift into his palm. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he approach the bath.

"Thank you for coming, love."

She nodded, then splashed the water playfully. In due time, he'd join her. But he had to do this now, or else he might never work up the courage again. Better to make a fool of himself now than spend every moment of the rest of his life feeling one for passing it up.

"I know we haven't known each other for long. A full month, by my reckoning... and, well, in that time you've done so much for me. I wanted you to know that... I mean, what I want to say is..."

The look on her face nearly broke his heart. It was that same crestfallen look she'd given him when he'd absentmindedly confessed his love for her. Back then he didn't know what to make of it, but in this moment it was crystal clear that some dark tragedy lurked behind it. It derailed his thoughts considerably, and he found himself asking a question he wasn't sure he'd like the answer to.

"On... on that day, one month ago, why... why did you continue to support me? I mean, the first time was a gesture of good will, of course, but was there another reason?"

The questions seemed to take her by surprise, for she audibly gasped. When she finally did respond, her voice had wavered far from her usual determined self.

"Long ago I had a friend not so different from yourself. More accomplished at the time I met him, but all the same life had seen fit to drag him into an abyss he could not escape on his own. I could not bear to watch him suffer, and so did everything I could to save him."

She paused, taking a deep breath, and slipped out of the bath. Now sitting on the edge, her bare skin glistening in the light, she continue.

"And so we became fast friends. He loved me, deeply and truly, much like yourself. Perhaps too much, for it cost him his own life. But though he died in my arms, he happily gave his life to save mine."

Then she shook her head and, standing up, began to approach him.

"How can I be certain you won't suffer for our love?"

Now it was his turn. He tried to put his best foot forward, even as he closed the gap between them.

"Is that so bad, dying in service to the ones you love?"

"Yes," she cried, "it is! Do not die for me, please. I could not bear to see it happen again. Live, and be happy."

He took her hands, holding them together close to his heart.

"I'm happiest when I'm with you, don't you see? To live without you would be not to live at all." It was a bit corny, perhaps, but he said it with every ounce of conviction he could muster. It seemed to move her, however, as her face showed the same surprise it had just a few moments before.

"Well, then, I-I... there may come a time when I must leave Norvrandt altogether. I won't be able to take you with me. Knowing this, will you still persist in your—this folly?"

"Should that day come, full glad will I be to have lived each one leading to it with you by my side, love." This was the moment he opened his palm, presenting her with his gift: A golden wedding band adorned with two diamonds, each as blue as her eyes.

"Will you marry me, my Warrior of Darkness?"

Tears trickled down her face. Yet she was smiling as she presented her hand to him. "In the face of such determination, how can I say no? I will, my darling knight."

He nearly fumbled the ring as he slipped it on her ring finger. Then he sealed the deal, much less clumsily, with a well practiced kiss. The first step having been taken, a dreadful realization had struck him. They would actually have to plan their wedding, and he had no idea what that even entailed. Where would they hold the ceremony, who would attend, and what would their vows even be?

As if sensing his sudden apprehension, the Warrior of Darkness rubbed her chin and spoke. "But I must say, I've no experience with the wedding customs of this land. Must I order a black dress, or white?"

He chuckled. At least they were both in over their head together.

~~~

Between his first job as a guardsman for the Crystarium, his second in the Crystalline Mean, and his own preparations for their wedding, he'd felt he'd come apart at the seams. Each night his muscles and tendons ached with a pain he'd never felt before, and his mind was too exhausted to do much thinking. Thankfully, the days leading up to that fateful day had been largely uneventful, for a sudden disaster would almost certainly leave him undone.

Not helping matters was that he had to skip out on lunch to make time for this, as spending the afternoon with the Warrior of Darkness would almost certainly have helped him unwind. The only saving grace was that their midnight trysts continued unabated. The occasional hot bath followed by passionate lovemaking with the woman of his dreams was enough to help him sleep restfully. If she was even half as nervous as he was, she made no effort to show it, and oddly enough that had helped him anchor himself.

When at last the day came, a full two weeks since he'd proposed to her, he was nearly a nervous wreck. It was far too late to back out now, and while he absolutely did not want to, under this much pressure greater men than him had been known to crack. Were it not for his best man, the very drill instructor who trained him, he likely would have done so. He seemed to know exactly what to say when it needed to be said and, if for nothing else, had also given him a good and filling sandwich.

Initially, he'd wanted to hold the ceremony at the Inviolate Witness, as he'd seen the place in a painting once and, knowing it wasn't that far away, thought it would make a fine venue. The name certainly helped, too. But there was no easy way up there without an Amaro, and he could only afford to book so many.

His second choice was the Exedra in the Crystarium, on the basis that it was a fairly open space and any furnishings they needed could be brought there and back without issue. But that had been shot that down immediately on the basis that it was altogether too public for such an intimate proceeding. Besides, much like the Inviolate Witness, he probably couldn't afford it.

In the end, he had chosen a far more familiar place to him: Fort Jobb, but more specifically the Church of the First Light. It was a quiet and rather dark chapel, but that was fitting in its own right and he'd been able to furnish it with few enough candles to see without disrupting its solemn mood.

It occurred to him, as he walked among the aisles, that he probably should have chosen white instead of black when he'd had his suit tailored for him. Well, perhaps nobody would see him shaking with apprehension then. But, damn, he'd gotten the candles all lit too, so of course they would notice.

The minister for the ceremony was an odd one, indeed, but from what he'd heard the Elven man was a fast friend to the Warrior of Darkness. If only he could understand a word of what the man was saying half the time. He was only a commoner, of course, and while he'd had an education the sheer volume of words coming forth from this Urianger's lips left his head spinning.

Then there were the others. Master Matoya, whose true name of Y'Shtola was only spoken once or twice in the presence of his company. Thancred and his ward, the Oracle of Light Minfilia... or Ryne, as she chose to call herself now. And the Leveilleur twins as well. In truth he knew very little about any of them, save for that they were heroes one and all. And of course they would be, for even though the Warrior of Darkness walked in every circle imaginable, surely those closest to her would be cut from the same cloth.

And yet she was marrying him. Three of her guests, though not much younger than him in fact, were merely children. Even so, he felt uncomfortably small in their presence, like he could never hope to measure up to them. When he'd stopped in the middle of the makeshift isle to catch his breath, Ryne had bumped into him from behind. He'd almost wished she'd simply crushed him under her sandal, that he might be spared the pressure he was facing. The imagery of such an ignoble end drained the blood from his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she'd said, and upon looking him in the eyes continued with a sweet smile, "You don't need to be so tense. Nothing bad is going to happen. Right, Alisaie?"

The Elven girl had cleared her throat in response. "Of course. Everything and everyone will be fine. We'll make sure of that." She'd then shot him a glare that most certainly said "Don't you dare hurt her". The Elven boy, who looked as if he'd prepared an entire speech on the subject matter, simply nodded in agreement. He didn't need to look around to guess that this was a sentiment shared by all.

And so was, he guessed, what she'd left unsaid. He wasn't about to hurt the love of his life, of course. Nothing could ever make him raise a hand to her, and his loyalty and love for her was unwavering. Really, the worst he could possibly do was...

Well, he didn't want to finish that thought.

His own guests were much more familiar to him: Nearly a dozen members of the Crystarium Guard had been dispatched to the ceremony. On paper this was because it was a civilian gathering in the otherwise fairly dangerous territory of Lakeland. In truth all his brothers and sisters in arms present had served alongside him during his many patrols, save for one: the very captain of the Crystarium Guard, Lyna.

She'd approached him before the ceremony, nearly scaring him half to death with her request to attend the wedding. Not because of the request itself, however, but due to her frank assessment of what could happen that day. In the past week there'd been numerous sightings of unusual Sin Eaters around Lakeland and, though they seemed to avoid large groups of people, there was no guarantee that this would last.

There were other guests, of course, but in total the number of people present for the ceremony numbered just over twenty, and that was including himself and his bride. Well, not counting the bride, seeing as how she hadn't come down yet...

At last he came to the front-most row and sat down next to his best man, the drill instructor. All the other guests had started chatting away with each other, talking about this and that. Alisaie had ducked out, and he figured he'd learn why soon. The drill instructor said nothing, but offered him a reassuring nod and handshake. There was nothing else to it then but to wait, and hope his insides didn't churn too much before the Warrior of Darkness arrived.

When she finally did, the room fell silent. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but the candles seemed to burn ever brighter in her presence, illuminating the silken white dress against her rich cinnamon skin and casting what was surely the longest and blackest shadow he'd ever seen on the far wall. Her eyes were shut, not tightly but with the same composure he'd come to know in her from the beginning. Guiding her by hand was Alisaie, whom was serving as her lady in waiting. The two seemed inseparable. Perhaps they were, and perhaps it was only temporary that his hand replaced hers when they made it to the altar.

Now standing beside the Warrior of Darkness, he took a deep, silent breath and looked into her eyes. They were as bright and crystalline blue as they'd always been, and it almost seemed as if time had frozen around them as his gaze fixed itself with hers. But he pulled himself out of those eyes just enough to say his vows and to hear hers, and as the minister Urianger said those few words he fully understood, the two shared the most important kiss of their lives.

To his relief, the "party" after the ceremony was much more relaxed. On Lyna's orders there was to be no consumption of spirits, but there was plenty of food and conversation to go around. There was a commotion going on among the Warrior of Darkness's guests, but he paid little attention to it. He was content to sit with his bride away from prying eyes.

As she cuddled up beside him and held his hand, she asked, "How does it feel?" His heart swooned at her touch alone, and were it not for the time and place he might've asked if he could take her right here and now.

"Wonderful. Like a huge weight's been taken off my chest. If you stopped holding my hand, I'd probably float off into the sky." He'd hoped she'd laugh at that, but to his dismay she remained silent. "Er, how about you, my love?"

She looked him in the eyes and spoke, a subtle edge to her otherwise soothing voice. "Naked."

"Ah, we-well, that dress is rather tightly fitted, so of course-."

She shook her head, but did at last smile. "I wanted to bring my greatsword for protection, but Alisaie and Alphinaud warned me against bringing a weapon to my own wedding. As disarmed as I am, however, even Ryne is better prepared to fight than I am."

"That makes two of us," he muttered, and in his mind he added, "even if I did come ready for battle." Once again the imagery of being crushed under a titanic Ryne's sandal flashed in his mind. He tried not to shudder, and instead reminded himself that she was merely a teenage girl and that he didn't need to compare himself to her like that.

And besides, there was no point in dwelling on his own inadequacy at a time like this. So he kept the rest of that line of thinking, along with that horrifying daydream, to himself.

"Are you hungry? I know you didn't prepare the food yourself, but I'm told the best chef in the Crystarium was personally responsible for some of it, especially the wedding cake."

"Cake, yes. We should eat some of it quickly. Grab me a slice, would you?"

He nodded and, leaving her for the moment, went to get some cake. Shortly after he returned with two plates and forks, and a hearty slice of wedding cake on each plate. He handed hers over and sat back down, eager to take his first bite.

But when he watched the Warrior of Darkness eat her cake, he couldn't even start. He'd never seen anyone eat a cake so... so daintily. It was almost mesmerizing, watching her carefully carve out piece by piece and eat them in such deliberate motion. And he would've kept watching, too, had she not finished her slice and begun poking her plate.

"Is something the matter?"

Her eyes widened as she gasped, as if he'd suddenly pulled her up from the depths of the Source, the great lake to the southwest. "Yes, there... I mean, not right now... but we need to evacuate to the Crystarium."

Now it was his turn to be shocked. "That's... ominous. Do you think we're going to be attacked?"

She nodded, and began to eat his cake. That was fine, of course. He could tell she was nervous, and so he handed the plate to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm sorry. But yes, we'll be under attack shortly by sin eaters."

"Surely you jest!"

"How appropriate. But no, I-."

The warning bells suddenly rang out. That usually meant a Sin Eater attack, and if his wife's prophetic warning was to be taken this was no exception. Taking her hand, he ran straight to Captain Lyna, who was shouting out orders to everyone in the Fort.

"... And under no circumstances are any of you allowed to die today! I will not have you spoil this wedding! Yes, soldier?"

He cleared his throat, and as his wife settled next to him, his hand still tightly gripping hers, he asked, "What should we do, Captain?"

She looked the two of them over. "You, get to the Crystarium with the rest of the civilians and deliver the warning. They'll already know by the sound of the bell, but do it regardless. And you," she said, turning her attention to the Warrior of Darkness, "don't have that nasty sword on hand. Damn. You'll go to the Crystarium too. Get ready for battle and return as soon as you can. The battle may be over before you return, but if not then we might need your help."

He felt a tinge of jealousy, but dismissed it. Of course the Warrior of Darkness would be a more valuable ally in this fight than he would. He was just a guard, and not a particularly skilled one at that. Even Ryne was more capable than he was. He didn't want to leave a child in harm's way, but surely she could handle herself, right?

Even so, the question formed in his mind, and without thinking he asked it aloud. "Er, where is Ryne?"

Captain Lyna gave him an incredulous look, as if he'd asked how to breathe. "She and Thancred and the others are defending the rear. They're under orders to escort all civilians—that means you and the Warrior of Darkness right now—back to the Crystarium. Now get going, soldier."

Well, now he just felt small again. Ryne was not only fighting Sin Eaters, but had been ordered to be his escort. And the Warrior of Darkness, technically. At least this time she shrank in this worldview with him. Perhaps Ryne could carry them on her shoulder?

He shook his head of such bizarre thoughts and soldiered on, his wife still in hand. It seemed as if this was barely phasing her where it had left him in a turmoil of mixed emotions,. Yet shouldn't she be taking the lead in that case? Or was she simply stuck in her thoughts, as she'd been when eating her cake?

As they came to the edge of Fort Jobb, on the path back to the Crystarium, Thancred was there and ready to greet them. More specifically, he spoke with the Warrior of Darkness. "We've taken out four of these sin eater clowns now, but you said there were five. Any idea where?"

He blinked. She'd been beside him the entire time. What was he talking about?

And suddenly his wife was back in reality, her voice firm and nonchalant. "You won't like the answer, I'm afraid."

Thancred shook his head. "Nothing for it, then. We'll keep it busy while the two of you try to find a way past."

And so they ran. And sure enough, they were not even halfway to the Crystarium when their path was blocked by a most unusual Sin Eater. It floated just off the ground, as if suspended by its will alone. With its terrifyingly shaped scythe, beautifully angelic body, and a head shaped like a jester's crown, it managed to be the second most disturbing Sin Eater he'd ever seen in his life. The first of course was Philia, whom he'd seen in person the day Holminster Switch came under attack.

Everything began to blur together as his escorts engaged this strange and powerful Sin Eater. At a loss on what to do, he could only let his wife guide him around the battle to safety. Once they were in the clear, he turned back one last time to make sure they were okay. Just in time to watch Thancred take a hard blow, knocking him in their direction. The mysterious weapon he'd carried, apparently called a gunblade, impaled itself halfway between the two men.

The Sin Eater wasted no time in trying to close the gap. It was coming for Thancred. it was coming for him.

It was coming for his wife.

His body moved on its own. His wife shouted something, but he couldn't hear even his own thoughts over the rush of blood in his ears. He'd never so much as seen a gunblade before, but his hand snaked out and grasped the hilt as easily as a sword or spear, pulling it free as he flew forward. The bitter cold wind wrapped tightly in front of his body as he lept into the air. With his full weight, he brought the blade keening down upon the Sin Eater...

... and was promptly batted aside, bouncing off the ground by his shoulder. The gunblade had already slipped his grasp, landing just a few fulms away from its owner. A little blood trickled from his face onto the ground, and his body was wracked in so much pain that he could hardly move. Not that he was going to, as he'd broken his arm from the impact. No, all he could do is watch now.

And what did he see, in what was surely his final moment? As if out from the very earth before him, the Warrior of Darkness rose into view. Clad in an armored coat of blackest night and wielding more a blade of ethereal darkness than steel, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Her glare, the same glare Alisaie had given him earlier, could have burnt a hole right through him.

Accompanied only by the metal thudding of her boots, she moved to enter the fray. It was the last thing he'd gotten to see before darkness took hold.

~~~

... but only because he'd lost consciousness. It was nearly a full day later when he came to in Spaygrics. His better judgment told him to stay still, and his eyes corroborated that when the cast on his arm came into view. There was also, as he could tell from the weight, one around his neck.

He'd gotten lucky, hadn't he? The creature dealt a killing blow to him, only it didn't quite take. It didn't make much sense, but that's what had to have happened.

To his surprised, the drill instructor was standing over him. "Oh, thank the night you're awake, boy. Everyone was worried about you. Even Captain Lyna was at her wits' end over your... heroics."

He stifled a laugh. It would've felt good for a moment, but already the pain was settling back in. "Sorry, sir. I don't know what came over me."

The drill instructor shook his head and smiled. "I think any good man would've done the same in your shoes. And on the bright side, you're the talk of the town now. Everyone can't get enough of the young groom who jumped to the defense of Thancred and the Warrior of Darkness."

The man's smile faded quickly, however. "But I've got to give you the news, to be frank. You've been put on leave for disobeying a direct order from your superior officer."

He had done that, hadn't he? He was supposed to get back safely and warn the residents of the Crystarium of the attack. "How bad is it, sir?"

"Many of our brothers and sisters in arms were injured in the attack, but thankfully there's not been a single casualty. You know what I call that, soldier?"

"A miracle, sir?"

"That, yes, but I was going to say 'a really good day'." The drill instructor cleared his throat. "As I was saying, you're going to be off duty until... er, as the captain put it in her own words, 'that fool's arm is healed and he learns better than to charge blindly to his death'."

He let out a sigh of relief. Captain Lyna probably had a few more choice words for him later, but for now he was just happy to keep his job once he'd recovered. And, of course, that he was alive.

"On that note, I have to return to my duty. But before I go, I had Chessamile okay that I could bring you something to eat. In your state I doubt you could take on a sandwich, but the Warrior of Darkness... er, suggested I give you a bowl of porridge instead."

The drill instructor motioned to a bowl sitting on the table next to him. "It's gone cold by now, but I'm sure it's still delicious."

He turned his eyes to look at the bowl. "I can't move, sir."

"Er, right... well, I'm sure... that is, she can probably handle that for you."

He didn't need to look to know who he'd motioned to. She had to be standing here, and he imagined it was in that favorite autumnal gown of hers with the two lilies in her hair.

"Thank you for your help, officer. I can handle him from here." With that the drill instructor faded from view, and in his place was the Warrior of Darkness. She seemed quite unhappy with him.

"Never again."

Her voice was stern, like his mother's whenever he'd gotten into trouble back when he was a child. His heart raced inside his chest, as if it could tear its way out any second now.

"I'm sorry."

She tapped a finger on the sleeve of her dress. "Promise me you'll never do that again. I won't have you rushing to your death like a fool."

"Yes, ma'am. I promise to never rush to my death like a fool again."

She shook her head and smiled. "None of that cheek, or else." Then she leaned down above him and planted a kiss on his forehead. "But thank you, my darling knight, for protecting me and my friends."

There was a moment of silence, and he felt he needed to get the questions on his mind off of it. "How were you ready for battle so quickly, and how did you know about the Sin Eaters before anyone else? Why did Thancred say you told him, when you never once left my side?"

The Warrior of Darkness closed her eyes and sighed a deep, long sigh. "I didn't want to have this conversation, but... would you believe I can be in two places at once? Only it's much more complicated than that..."

"I've nothing to do and nowhere to go. Take your time, love."

Pulling up the cot next to him, she sat down with the bowl of porridge in hand. "Very well, but I'll have to start from the beginning. Open your mouth when I bring the spoon to you, please. Good, good... now then, in an Ele... um, Elven city in a far off land blanketed by snow and ice, I happened across a dying knight..."


End file.
